


Risky Repose

by dawnstonedagger



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cat Naps, Dragon Age Kink Meme, Ensemble Cast, Gen, Humor, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Sleep, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 02:35:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3711616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnstonedagger/pseuds/dawnstonedagger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inquisitor Lavellan has a bad habit of falling asleep basically anywhere in Skyhold that she can rest her head. Her companions do not hesitate to take advantage by playing pranks on her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Risky Repose

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for the Dragon Age Kink Meme. Prompt found here: http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/13696.html?thread=53132416#t53132416

Ellana Lavellan seldom took one of her cat naps in public on purpose, but sometimes her body seemed to shut down when she got too comfortable. It seemed to be happening more frequently, however, after weeks spent out in the wilderness and fighting wyverns and red lyrium infected templars, tackling terrain even the most nimble horse would shy away from. Ellana came home to Skyhold bone-exhausted, so perhaps it shouldn't have been surprising.

Meetings were particularly troublesome.

“Inquisitor?” She vaguely heard Josephine hiss.

“Inquisitor Lavellan?” she tried again, her voice raising in pitch. Leliana giggled, Cullen snorted, Ellana's eyelids fluttered.

“Ellana!” Josephine finally shouted.

“Huh? What? Sorry Josephine, aha ha...” Ellana said, and sat up straight, embarrassed. She shuffled the pile of documents in front of her, the top one all covered in names, backgrounds and and forms of address for various powerful people in the Orlesian court. So much information to absorb in such a short time, and she'd just come back from a stint on the Exalted Plains and confronting its many horrors. Sleep should have been more difficult, really.

“Are you quite well?”

“I'm fine, wonderful, great! Apologies, it's just so warm in here. I got a little too comfortable,” she said, fumbling for an excuse. Learning all of this was important if she meant to get these people to stop fighting amongst themselves. How dare she be so relaxed and complacent when people were dying by the hundreds every day!

“Shall I open the door for some fresh air? It's always cooler in the hallway because of the hole in the wall... We have a great deal to get through tonight if we want to be prepared for Halamshiral,” said Leliana, always helpful.

“That might be a good idea. Now where were we? Marquise Mantillon's eighth husband died how? Was it bees?”

* * *

Two days later, Ellana woke abruptly to the shock of freezing cold water being poured on her head from above, as she lay on a low roof near the practice yard.

She'd been watching the Iron Bull and Cassandra spar, usually entertaining enough in of itself to keep her well awake. Not this time.

Screaming like a stuck nug, she fumbled for purchase on the slippery slate tiles, while Cassandra and Bull bowed over in laughter like she'd seldom seen.

"I can't - I can't believe he actually did it," Cassandra said, between breaths as she laughed. Ellana looked up to see Solas leaning over the edge of the battlements, looking smug and amused.

"You two put him up to this?" Her leathers and her hair were soaked. As if she couldn't have been injured falling off the roof after being surprised!

“Not at all. Like you I stopped to watch Cassandra and Bull, and noticed you. One of these days you are going to pass out somewhere more precarious. I am concerned no one is going to be around to catch you, Inquisitor,” said Solas, still smirking down at her from the wall above.

“Concerned my ass. You bastard, that was really cold!” she yelled up at him, as she got to her feet.

“Yes, yes it was,” he said, and he sauntered away to go refill his bucket, while the rest of her so-called friends continued to try not to fall down laughing.

* * *

Of course it happened again - not long after the incident on the roof - this time in the tavern. And after this incident, Ellana began to consider wearing uncomfortable undergarments to combat her bad habit.

“Hmmh?” her face itched, and so she scratched her cheek which was... sticky? Her eyes fluttered, and half-asleep, she ignored it, and shifted to a more comfortable position on the chest under the second-floor stairs.

“Shhh, shhh, just let her find out,” she heard Sera whispering, while the barroom was filled with snickering and low chortles from a nearby table.

Wait. No.

“So cruel,” she heard Dorian say in a low, despairing voice.

“She should know better, by now,” Iron Bull groused.

“What's the fun in that?” said Krem.

Ellana resisted a groan, and was tempted to hide inside the chest. Sera had painted something on her face, hadn't she? Probably a male member, or something else incredibly obnoxious. Very well, she'd let them have their fun, and tomorrow when they set out, she'd have them all picking spindleweed until their fingers bled.

She got up, stretched, and not touching her face, she walked through the room as if she were completely unaware of anything untoward marring her complexion. Her friends and companions, waved and smiled innocently as she made for the stairs, which would take her to the shortest route to the baths.

Behind her, once she'd slipped from sight, she heard them all burst out laughing, loud enough to rattle the rafters.

There was little enough to laugh about these days. Perhaps she should swallow her pride and be glad she could be of assistance. That didn't mean she wasn't going to prank the lot of them, once the opportunity presented itself.

Revenge would be sweet.


End file.
